Family Ties
by Miss Saigon
Summary: On the same day that Briar meets a strange Westerner, he has a nightmare about the death of his mother. Now the man follows him, trying to gather information about the Green Mage. Who is the mysterious stranger and how is he connected to Briar's past?
1. Market Day

The day started like any other day. Briar woke early in his room at Number 6 Cheeseman Street, got dressed quietly, as was his habit, and made his bed. He did not regret, as he once would have, having slept alone. He had seen a mind-healer months before about his horror-dreams, the stinking, roaring flashes of half-memory, half-imaginings that had come to him in the night for half a year after leaving Gyonxe. Now he could sleep without fear of such dreams, and didn't need a warm companion in his bed to keep him sane through the night. Not that he wouldn't pass up an opportunity if it came along, but right now he was trying to concentrate on setting up a name for himself in Emelan as a procurer, maker and designer of _shakkan _trees.

It wasn't as difficult as it had been in other countries, since he had come into his power here and was already well-known as a mage. Still, he put just as much effort into his networking, since Emelan was likely to be his biggest market for the rest of his career, and he wanted to start out with a good reputation.

His morning routine complete, he went straight to his workroom and loaded a dozen _shakkans _into the two-wheeled cart he used to transport them. It hardly made a dent in the small forest he had growing in the room and in the garden, but they were the ones most likely to sell on a day like to day – Watersday, traditionally market day. Today he wouldn't be wasting time and effort by including trees shaped and spelled to store magic, since Temple mages and visitors from Lightsbridge University often chose the market day to venture out of Winding Circle.

He looked in on Daja at the forge before leaving. "Are you coming, today? Sandry says it ought to be a big turn-out."

She glanced up at him from where she was fashioning a tricky-looking filigree wire necklace. "Hm? Oh, yes. Maybe later. I've got a commission to finish."

"Righto," he said cheerfully, heading for the blissfully cool doorway. "Don't whittle away _all _your time in here, though. My leaves are drying up just standing in here."

She made a non-committal noise. He shook his head and took the reigns of the mare that led the cart. "I dunno. Fresh air means nothing to some people," he said, and felt the _shakkan_s' bristle as if to say, We _like it. _

"I know you do," he said. The mare harrumphed, as if she was wondering who he was talking to. _Women,_ he thought.

The market was already getting busy by the time he got there, and he had been deliberately early. He quickly set up his stall, complete with the sign 'Trees by Briar Moss – Green Mage', and sat behind it, keeping a wary eye out for pickpockets and thieves. Any thief who tried to steal one of _his _trees would get a nasty surprise, but it would be a shame to have to waste power on something like that. Better to avoid the whole situation altogether.

"Briar! Briar!"

He looked over and grinned when he saw Lark and Rosethorn coming through the thickening crowd, Evvy running out ahead of them with a basket slung over her shoulder. Comas, Lark's shy shadow, stood between the two women, laden with another basket. Evvy came level with him eventually, breathing heavily.

"You didn't have to run," he told her, amused. "I'm not going anywhere."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I haven't seen you in _ages_!" she complained.

He winked at her. "How're your lessons?"

"Interesting," she admitted. "But not as much fun without you."

"I don't think 'fun' is the point," he said, as the others caught up with his former student. "So long as you're learning things."

"Hello, Briar," Lark greeted him. "Is Daja here?"

"Not till later, she said," he told her, "but I wouldn't count on her at all. She looked pretty into whatever she was doing."

Lark chuckled. "That's our Daja. I wanted to talk to her about dinner, though."

"Isn't that not till tomorrow?"

"Just because _you_ can't see more than a few hours in front of your nose, boy," said Rosethorn, who had been examining one of his _shakkan _willows.

"_Rosethorn_," he complained. "I'm _eighteen_. Probably."

"Don't whine," said Rosethorn and Evvy in unison, and they grinned at each other. Briar winced. He always knew he had lost when they ganged up on him like that.

"Well, come on," said Lark. "We're keeping Briar from his customers. It's good to see you, dear."

"You too," he called after them as they merged back into the crowd.

The next few hours went quickly, as mage after mage came up to examine and talk to him about his trees. He managed to sell two before noon, which was a personal record, with at least three offers of interest he would be sure to follow up on. After his break for midday there was a little less activity, as some of the Temple people went home for the afternoon services.

"Briar Moss."

He looked up from where he had been watching a suspicious-looking teen in a ragged tunic to see a tall man looking down at him. Not at the trees – at him. He was dressed plainly – not poorly, but simply, in dark grey trousers and blue tunic. He had a long, straight nose, a rounded chin, wispy golden hair and greyish-green eyes. Briar probably wouldn't have looked twice at him in the street. "Yes?"

The stranger's eyes flicked to the sign, then back to him. "Green Mage."

Briar sighed inwardly, assuming the man was trying to figure out how he could label himself a mage, young as he was. _I'd like to see his face if I was sitting here five years ago, when I first got my medallion, _he thought. He said, "Can I help you?"

The man seemed to be staring at him now, as though he were trying to see something in Briar's face. It made Briar uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't explain even to himself. "Hm?" the man said. "Oh. No. Never mind." And he wandered off.

The exchange bothered him all afternoon, and even after he had gone home and put away his remaining _shakkans_, bidding the rest of the plants goodnight before going to bed. Daja must have had dinner in the forge, he thought, listening to the 'clink' of the small hammer she used for fine work. He fell asleep to the sound, his mind still trying to figure out what it was about the tall, nondescript stranger that he had found so disturbing.

Clink.

Clink.

…_Plink._

_It was raining. Water was running through the hole in the ceiling and into the corner. He got out of bed and looked for the bucket his mother kept for when it rained. It was on the countertop, and he had to strain to reach it. When his little fingers brought it to the edge, it slipped off, and he wasn't quick enough to catch it. It banged loudly on the floor before rolling away, and he ran quickly after it, his heart pounding as he set it to rights. There was no sound from his neighbours, and he hurriedly carried the bucket to the leak. _

_It was almost morning, he realised, peering out the window at the waning darkness. His mother should be home by now. _

_Shivering, he went to the door, tugging his ragged tunic further down his arms. He reached up on tiptoes for the latch, and pushed the door open so that a chink of moonlight fell across his face. There was no movement on the street. He knew he ought to stay inside, but his stomach growled. Where was his mother with the food?_

_Slowly he crept out, the stone step freezing against his bare feet. Keeping as quiet as possible, he padded down the street as far as he dared, looking around him at every little sound. _

_There was a dark shape against the wall at the end of the street. As soon as he saw it, he turned, ready to run, but when he glanced back over his shoulder at it, it wasn't moving. He crept up to it. When he was about ten metres away, he saw the wave of dark hair that hid half the shape from view. He ran faster, and fell to his knees beside the body. "Mama!" _

_He tugged on the worn sleeve, rolling her over. The normally olive-brown skin was pale, the thick, wavy hair of which she was so vain was limp and covered in mud. "Mama!" he cried, shaking her with all his strength as tears flooded down his face. "Mama, wake up!" _

_Something wet and sticky was staining his hands. When he looked at them, they showed red in the moonlight. "MAMA!"_

_Something crashed in the alleyway. He gasped and looked around. Something huge and black was coming at him out of the darkness. It swayed and stumbled towards him, making low growling noises. He stared at it as it lumbered forward, so frightened he couldn't move. Then it _looked _at him. Its eyes were red, and they burned like fire in the sunken eyesockets. _

_He screamed and ran. He ran and ran until he no longer knew where he was, and nor did he care. He ran through streets, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears and his mother's blood still on his hands…_

Briar woke with a strangled sound, half-sitting up in bed. He'd kicked his sheets off during the night, but his face and torso were drenched in sweat. Daja and Sandry were clamouring in his head.

_What, Briar, are you - _

He hurriedly shut off the connection between them, and scrambled out of the sweat-soaked bed. But he hadn't escaped yet.

_Briar?_

He froze. _Tris? How are you –_

_Never you mind how I'm doing it. What on earth was that?_

_Just a nightmare,_ he told her, awed that she was speaking to him. He, Daja and Sandry hadn't mind-spoken with Tris since she had arrived at Lightsbridge, well out of the range of their magical connection.

_I'm sure,_ was her answer, laced with sarcasm.

_I'm going back to sleep,_ he said.

She didn't answer, but he felt her annoyance at him before her magical presence faded away.

He ripped off the sheets and replaced them, leaving the old ones in a tidy heap for the maid to collect in the morning, before lying back down again. He lay there, half-expecting to hear Daja's footsteps on the stairs. It would be just like her to come check on him after he'd made it clear he didn't want to talk to anyone.

He shivered. What _was _that dream? It was so vivid… but he'd never had it before. His memory of that night was so faded… how much of the dream was reality?

When morning came, he was still awake.

Daja didn't ask him about what had happened in the middle of the night, she merely gave him the list of things she needed from the market when he said he was going out. "I made something for Lark," she told him. "But I need some extra wire for Rosethorn's present."

"Presents, is it?" he scoffed. "It's just _dinner_, Daja."

"It's polite," she said, and gave him a look that made him think she was going to ask questions, so he made a quick exit.

At the market, he kept having the uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched. He glanced over his shoulder about four times before getting heartily sick of the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. He sent out his power to the green things around him, letting the plants know he needed a quick exit. They led him to a side-alley with a ladder that led up to the roof. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he climbed quickly up it and perched on the edge of the guttering, peering over the edge.

He didn't have to wait long before the tall man from the previous day edged around the corner. He was not the best at stalking, and Briar was surprised he had managed to stay hidden for so long. The man was wearing velvet red today, and his hair glowed in the sunlight like fresh hay. _Sticks out like a sore thumb_, he thought. The man seemed puzzled when he didn't find Briar in the alley, until he noticed the ladder. When he looked up, Briar ducked away out of sight.

_So, this bleater is following me around_, he thought. _Why?_ He considered doing a bit of tailing of his own, but he knew he ought to get back to Daja before she came looking for him herself. Instead, he found the connection he shared with Sandry and re-opened it.

_Sandry, I need a favour._

Her reply came back almost instantly, and it was scathing. _Oh, _now _you need me. _

He rolled his eyes, getting up to peer over the edge of the roof again. _Look at this fellow. _

Sandry obeyed, looking through his eyes at the man who was now making his way out of the market, looking defeated. _What about him?_

_Do you recognise him?_

_Should I?_

He cursed.

_Why? Briar, what's going on?_

_D'you think you could do something for me? I need to know everything there is to know about this blonde bleater. _

_I can try, but… Briar, about last night – _

_I just had a nightmare, _he said quickly.

But – 

He closed the connection again, knowing it would infuriate her, but also knowing it was the best way of getting her to shut up for a bit. He winced when he realised he would have to face her later that afternoon at Discipline Cottage.


	2. Family Reunion

Briar had to wait an hour before the blonde man gave up looking for him

Briar had to wait an hour before the blonde man gave up looking for him. By that time, the market had mostly cleared out, and there was a kid about ten or so years old tied by hemp cords to the cart that carried the _shakkans_. Briar sighed as he untied the young opportunist.

"Don't you lot know yet to not touch my things?" he asked the child.

The boy glared at him and ran off as soon as he was free. In the distance, Briar saw him rejoin his associates. They had no doubt been waiting around to see what would happen to their friend.

Briar repacked the cart and hitched up the mare in silence, thinking. What was it about the blonde man that made him so very uncomfortable? Perhaps it had something to do with the look in his eyes when he looked at Briar… a mixture of confusion and panic, with perhaps a hint of malice. Briar had plenty of enemies, he was sure, but he could usually figure out what it was he had done to deserve the enmity.

He mused on this all the way back to Cheeseman St., where he unpacked his shakkans and checked on all the others growing in his workshop. It felt like only a few minutes later – though more than likely it had been a few hours – when Daja stuck her head around the door. "Briar! You aren't even dressed!"

He looked up at her. She was wearing her best dress tunic and leggings that Sandry had embroidered herself. "Hm?"

"Dinner!"

"Oh, right."

"What is _wrong_ with you lately?"

His face darkened. "None of your beeswax, thank you." He put the last of his _shakkans _away and pushed past her on the way to his room. He got changed to the impatient sounds of Daja crashing around in the kitchen and the cook's protests. When he came out, fully decked out in his Sunsday best, she was waiting for him with a box under one arm and a covered pan in the other. He took the tray from her as a silent apology. She raised her eyebrows at him, but let him take it. "Don't eat them."

"What are they?" he asked as they went out to the yard. "It smells good."

"I made something for dinner. I thought Lark might like it."

"Riiight."

"Oh, shut up."

They hitched the small cart and Daja took the reins. In no time at all, it seemed, they were approaching Winding Circle.

"Did this place get smaller?" Briar asked vaguely as they clattered up the path to Discipline Cottage.

"No, your head just got bigger. Be polite to Comas this time, won't you?"

"What? I'm always polite to him."

"Yes, but you always manage to be polite in a way that scares him out of his wits."

Sandry was waiting for them at the gate by the time they reached it. "Well, finally," she said haughtily, wrinkling her button nose at them in disapproval.

"Blame Briar, please," Daja said, giving her friend a hug. "If he hadn't taken an age to get dressed…"

"Not listening," Briar said, climbing off the cart with some difficulty, since he had Daja's tray in one hand and the box in the other. "Why am I carrying all your stuff?"

Daja took her things from him and went on into the cottage, leaving Briar to face Sandry alone.

"I want to talk to you," she said, giving him a look.

"No you don't," he said, tying the horse to the fence at a place where he wouldn't be able to reach Rosethorn's garden.

"Oh yes I do. What _was _that last night?"

"Nothing. Why do you girls always make such a big problem out of everything?"

"Well, for one thing I don't want you to be dreaming _my_ dreams."

He stared at her. "You saw my dream?"

"Well, yes. Didn't you realise?"

"No. I thought you just heard me wake up." He could feel his face heating up. She had _seen_ that? Daja, too?

"All four of us were there. Even Tris, and she's far too far away to –"

"Oh look, here's Niko," Briar said quickly, running back to the gate and waving enthusiastically. "Hoi, Niko!"

"Don't think this is getting you out of anything," Sandry muttered, before going to greet the older Mage.

Briar smirked and went inside, where he was promptly set upon by Evvy, who wanted to show him everything she'd been learning over the past couple of months all at once. He watched patiently as she did various things with stones and lectured him about volcanoes and all the different types of rock. Rosethorn was in avid conversation with Frostpine about protective circles, and Daja was showing Lark the pile of intricate jewellery from the box she had brought from the house, with Comas looking on with interest. Niko had engaged Sandry in conversation, and she was replying politely, but occasionally shooting Briar looks that said _I'll get you later._

Eventually, Lark called for dinner. Briar noticed that both she and Rosethorn were wearing their new necklaces – despite Rosethorn's usual protests that jewellery simply got in her way. He sat down between Rosethorn and Evvy. "Where's Luvo?" he asked his former student.

"In my room," Evvy said. "Playing. He doesn't like crowds."

Lark and Sandry served the food, including Daja's odd little savoury cakes, which tasted delicious with the roast lamb. Everyone congratulated her on them, and she positively glowed.

"Where did you get the recipe for these, Daja?" Lark asked her.

"Oh… a friend," Daja said mysteriously.

"The baker's daughter," Briar clarified with a smirk. "I thought she was _more_ than a friend."

"BRIAR!"

"What? I live downstairs. I'm not deaf."

"You are such a… a…"

"Now now," he said. "Don't go a-calling me names."

"Briar," Rosethorn warned.

"What's the matter with you?" Evvy asked, taking Briar rather aback.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" he snapped. "Were _you _in my dreams as well?"

"No," she said, looking hurt. "There's no need to get catty with me."

"What's this?" Niko asked calmly, his eyes shrewd. Suddenly Briar didn't feel very hungry.

"Nothing," he muttered. "It's not my fault my sisters are all dream-hopping sticky-beaks."

"We didn't _mean_ to be in your dream, Briar," Sandry said, sounding exasperated.

"I thought that sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen anymore," he replied, glaring at her. "I thought _you_ put us all back in our own heads, with your map-weaving."

"Oh, so it's _my _fault, now?"

"That's _enough._" Rosethorn's most dangerous voice was enough to ensure sudden silence at the dinner table. "Briar," she continued, in a softer tone. "You told me you saw a mind-healer about those dreams."

"It wasn't about Gyonxe," he told her, his anger losing momentum halfway through the sentence. He sighed, feeling the sudden desperate need to be alone. "Thank you for dinner, Lark. Excuse me." He pushed back his chair and left the cottage, ignoring Sandry's indignant protests. Closing the door behind him, he leant against it for a moment, just able to hear her say, "Well _really_! Such a stupid thing to get angry over – "

"He's not angry," he heard Evvy reply. "He would have slammed the door, elsewise."

"Otherwise," Rosethorn corrected her, absent-mindedly.

Briar walked away from the door and went to sit with Rosethorn's plants around the side of the house. There was a convenient spot there that couldn't be seen from the door, or any of the windows. The plants wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles, making him feel a little better. After a few minutes, he started to feel a bit of an idiot. It _was _a silly thing to be angry about, he supposed. It was only that it was the first time he could ever remember dreaming about his mother, and he would have preferred it to be a private experience. He wondered if the girls were telling the others about it right now. Then he felt awful for thinking it. They wouldn't do that, he knew. Whatever the four foster-siblings shared through their mind-link remained private to the four of them, unless mutually agreed otherwise. He wondered what they _were_ saying to save his dignity. Sandry probably wouldn't even bother.

Perhaps about half an hour later, he sensed both his sisters creeping up on him. He looked up at them, Sandry, little nineteen-year-old Sandry in her beautifully embroidered summer gown and riding boots, and the darker, taller Daja in leggings and tunic. He was suddenly very grateful for their presence.

_What's the matter with me? _he wondered. _I might as well be a girl, the way I keep changing my mind all the time._

"I knew you'd be here," Sandry said, eyeing the vines and stems that curled around Briar.

"Don't squash the plants," Briar said in invitation. Sandry flashed a triumphant expression and sat down gracefully beside him. Daja flopped down less gracefully on his other side. "Sorry for being a whiny bleater," he said after they had sat there in silence for a while.

"You were, rather," Sandry replied.

"No need to spare my feelings," he sighed. "I suppose I should apologise to Lark, as well."

"Later," Daja said. "We need to talk."

"No we don't."

"Stop that," said Sandry. _You shouldn't keep it all inside this way._

_I'm not_, he replied.

_Is that how it really happened?_ she asked, without a trace of pity in her mind-voice, which Briar was glad of. _The dream, I mean._

_I dunno,_ he said. _I don't remember it, do I?_

_You can't dream something you don't remember_, Daja cut in. _That's logic._

_Do you know what triggered it? _asked a fourth voice.

_TRIS!_ They all exclaimed at once.

_Not so loud_, she winced.

_How are you doing that?_ Sandry asked, sounding fascinated. _You're miles and MILES away._

_Just something I'm working on_, Tris explained vaguely. 

_Then how are WE doing it?_ Daja asked.

_I'm holding the connection strong,_ Tris said. _You can use it as long as I start it._

_Then how did you hear what we were talking about?_ asked Briar.

Can you three stop interrogating me for a minute? I asked Briar a question.

_I heard you._

_Well? Do you know what might have prompted the dream?_

_No._

_There must be something._

_No, Tris. Sorry._

_He's being stubborn about the whole thing,_ Sandry complained to Tris.

_Hey, would you be all right with it if I started picking apart dreams you had about any of YOUR parents?_ Briar asked them all. There was a notable silence.

_We're a tragic bunch really, aren't we? _Daja said eventually.

_What about the man, Briar? From this morning?_

Briar turned to stare at Sandry. "What?" he said, forgetting in his surprise to speak mind-to-mind.

"The blonde man."

"What blonde man?" Daja asked.

_Are you three talking out loud? _Tris asked, sounding strained. _I'm good, but I'm not _that _good._

_Sorry, Tris,_ said Sandry. _I was asking Briar about some man he asked me to find out about. He was at the market this morning._

_Did you recognise him? _Tris asked Briar.

_No!_ Briar said. _He was just following me around and I didn't like it._

_Getting jumpy in your old age, are you? _Daja chuckled.

_Something like that._ _Anyway, this is an entirely different problem. _

_Maybe they're connected_, said Tris thoughtfully. _There's no such thing as coincidences. _

_You would say that_, said Daja fondly. _Maybe we should track this fellow down. _

_I tried_, said Sandry. _Uncle didn't recognise the description, so he's probably not a diplomat, or anything like that. Not that he was well-dressed enough for one_, she added knowledgably. _I just thought I'd check, in case he was in disguise, or something… _

Briar decided not to ask why she seemed to think it was normal for diplomats to wander around the market in 'disguise'.

_Anyway, I'll ask the guards, tomorrow. They might know something._

Tris, from miles away, sighed. _Why don't you just ask Niko to scry him?_

_Will that work? _Daja asked.

_Of course it will. It might take him a while without ever having actually seen him himself. If I was there I could probably do it in minutes._

_Show off, _Sandry said fondly.

_I'd rather not ask him, _Briar said tentatively. If the blonde man had anything to do with his dream… not that he understood how he would… as far as he was concerned they were two completely unrelated events.

_It's up to you,_ said Tris, in a tone that said it really wasn't. _Oh blast, I've a class. Good luck, Briar._

_Thanks, _he said, and she was gone.

"Well," said Daja. "That was…"

"Yeah," said Briar.

"Well if anything, I'm telling Niko about _Tris_," Sandry said. "I bet it takes more out of her than she lets on, to reach that far."

"Maybe she's not reaching that far," Briar suggested. "Maybe she's not really at Lightsbridge."

"Of course she's at Lightsbridge!" said Sandry incredulously. "She just said she had a class!"

"Yeah, but she didn't say what, where or with whom," Briar pointed out.

Sandry beamed. "I love it when you say words like 'whom'. It makes me glad we actually managed to teach you something."

"Harhar," said Briar.

"So?" asked Daja. "Will you ask Niko?"

"Not yet," he said. "Lets see what Sandry finds out first. There's probably no point, anyway, he might have just been looking to steal some trees, not some kind of… Dream Mage."

Sandry shivered. "Do you think he might be?"

Daja muttered a quick prayer in Tradertalk. "Dream Mages," she spat. "Pirates. Invaders."

"There's no Dream Mage!" Briar said, rolling his eyes. "Come on, let's go finish dinner. I'm hungry."

"You already had a whole side of lamb," Sandry pointed out as they stood up and Briar coaxed the plants away from his ankles.

Daja shook her head. "When has that ever meant anything to our Briar?"


	3. Drowning

Notes: I apologise for the delay in this chapter folks… I have had a time out to do some other things and have only just got back into fanfic (but with a vengeance!) if you like please check out my new Harry Potter fics as well! Since the last update I have read Melting Stones, so I apologise for the lack of Luvo in the last chapter as I knew next to nothing about him.

**Family Ties **

**Chapter 3**

After Briar's apology, everyone except Niko seemed to be satisfied that his little outburst was over and would not reoccur. Briar could feel his former teacher's eyes on him all through the dinner, but tried to ignore it in favour of enjoying conversation and laughter with people he would like to see more often. Evvy in particular always cheered him up. After dinner, Luvo made his appearance and Evyy lifted him onto a chair. Briar liked Luvo, but still found him a little strange. "How are you, Briar?" the little rock-creature asked, craning around to see him.

"Fine thank you," Briar said politely.

"I hear your business is going well."

Briar knew that was Luvo being polite, as he usually had little interest in commerce. "I get by," he replied.

"He's being modest, Luvo," Evvy said teasingly. "He's setting a trend for _shakkans. _It's all the Earth Dedicates can talk about lately."

He grinned at her fondly. "I hope you don't try and put them off by talking about rocks."

This started the age-old plants versus rocks argument, which kept them entertained up until the point where Niko had to leave. He did not, to his credit, make any further enquiry into what had happened, though Sandry insisted on walking him down the garden path, and Briar guessed she was going to ask him about Tris, as she had threatened. _He doesn't know anything_, she told him and Daja when she got back.

_Big surprise_, said Briar.

Not long after that, the Ducal coach came to pick up Sandry, and Comas escaped up to his room. Briar and Daja stayed for a while longer, Daja pulling Lark aside for a private conversation. Probably about the baker's daughter, Briar thought with amusement. Evvy took Luvo back to her room, and then Briar realised too late that this left him alone with Rosethorn.

"So?" she prompted, as he helped her tidy away the dinner things.

He gave her an innocent look. "So?"

"Don't play games with me, Briar. What's happening?"

There was no way around it. He told her the whole story, only leaving out the more intimate details of his dream, which he still remembered as well as when he had just woken up. To his surprise she didn't seem as concern as the girls. "It may just have been a nightmare," she said. "You are prone to them."

"Thanks," he said, more than a trace of sarcasm. "I've never had one like that before, though. And how do you explain the girls showing up in it?"

"That I can't explain, but then we've always said the four of you, connected the way you are, are unexplainable. For now, I would consider it just another strange and unique mystery."

"Rosethorn, you hate mysteries."

The look she gave him was her best I'm-your-teacher-I'm-always-right face. He gave up.

The sun had gone down by the time Daja was ready to go, and he drove the cart back in near-darkness. By the time they got home, Briar was exhausted. At least there won't be any more dreams tonight, he thought as he performed his check of the _shakkans _and collapsed into bed.

He was wrong.

_You had to be in a gang. Roach knew this, even though he was only six years old, at best, and a lot of the street politics went over his head. He knew he was the lowest of the low, a street rat not affiliated with any gang, only answerable to the Thief Lord and as such, easy prey to bigger and stronger boys. It didn't matter that he was a good thief, that he had nimble fingers and had already mastered the art of moving silently, that he was getting better and better all the time. When he got anything good, they took it, and passed it off as their own. The Thief Lord must know this was happening, but it didn't matter. _

_This time they had taken a purse he had taken from a pocket of a nobleman - a phenomenon rarely seen in Sotat and a great prize for any thief, let alone one so young. Roach had made his way back to the Thief Lord's lair by the dark back ways, knowing that such a prize would bring him great reward. For once, he might eat well tonight, perhaps even from the Lord's own table. _

_But they had found him, and taken his prize, saying, why should such a little kid like you get all the glory? And Briar, bleeding from the mouth where they had hit him in the struggle, was forced to go home empty handed again. _

_The Thief Lord was angry. He let his personal servants take Roach and beat him. Roach held his hands over his face as they kicked at his head, his back and his legs, and bit his lip hard not to make any noise. But one of them smashed his foot down on his fingers and crushed them into his face, and he cried out then. And they took him and threw him into the deepest part of the sewer, and he was so little that he could barely stand up in it, and they left him there. _

_He crawled out, using all his strength that he had left with his one good arm. Then he curled into a little ball and cried. He had to be in a gang, this he knew with all his heart. Then no one would hurt him like this, then his prizes would count towards the gang's prizes, then the Thief Lord wouldn't be disappointed in him…_

_There was a noise, somewhere down in the tunnel. He sat up, his body protesting every movement. What was that sound? Then everything went very dark and he found himself gripped with a paralysing fear. Something big, something dark and terrible was coming for him. In the distance, the far far distance, he could see a pair of glowing red eyes. _

_He got up and ran. Ran through the sewers, bumping into other gutter snipes on the way but not caring, not able to stop, hearing all the time the roaring of the creature. Then he tripped on something and went sprawling, back off the ledge and into the icy water. Down here the water was running and he fell beneath the surface, thrashing and reaching up with his hands, but no one would come, because he wasn't in a gang. He tried to shout and got a mouthful of dung water for his pains, it went down his throat and choked him, his vision was black, his head was pounding and he was sure he would die, and if the water didn't kill him then he could feel the creature coming for him, up, up through the sewer - _

"No!"

He was lying on the very edge of the bed. His sheets were twisted all around him again, sweat-soaked. Someone had screamed, and that had woken him… he shuddered as he realised it had been his own voice that had rung out in the night.

_Briar? _

It was Sandry, very quiet. He lay there for a while, letting the pounding of his heart recede, letting the cool power of his _shakkan _calm him from where it sat on the windowsill.

_You all right?_

Daja, this time. At least they weren't shouting in his head like the previous night. He wasn't sure how he would have dealt with that. He hesitated, his mind-voice on the verge of speaking the same lie he had before, but immediately realised such a lie would be futile.

_I don't know, _he said finally. _Were you there?_

_Yes,_ came back Sandry's voice. _We were all there. We called to you but you couldn't hear us._

_That was horrible. _Tris sounded shaken, very unlike her usual snobby self. _What was that thing?_

_I don't know, _Briar said truthfully, shuddering again as he remembered it afresh. _It was the same thing from last night, I think… _

_It can't be a real monster, _Daja said, somber. _You would remember a monster like that, wouldn't you?_

_Yes, _Briar had to say truthfully. He remembered that day the gang had taken his stolen purse, when the Thief Lord had had him beaten, and being thrown in the sewer. But he didn't remember any red-eyed monster that seem to spell terror into his very heart. He was sure he would have remembered that. _But it's a nightmare… not a memory. _

_I really hope that doesn't happen again. _Tris was firm on that point. _You better go see the mind-healer again. _

Briar grimaced at the thought. Sharing his most intimate and personal thoughts with a total stranger, even if they were a Winding Circle healing dedicate, had not been a fun experience the first time, even if it had helped with the dreams. _If I have time_, he said, noncommittally.

_Can we get some normal sleep now? _Sandry asked, and Briar imagined her curling up in her big fluffy bed up at the Duke's palace, squishing her face into the pillow in a most unladylike way.

_Yes please, _Tris said, and was gone.

_Briar - _Daja sounded like she wanted an argument. Honestly he would have thought Sandry would be the one to start something.

_See you tomorrow, Daj', _he said firmly. There was a soft thump from upstairs as if she had turned over violently in bed.

He stripped off the sheets again, wondering what the maid would think of him, needing fresh ones two days in a row. Something embarrassing, probably, but he was too tired to think about it now.


	4. Gyonxe

**Hello again :) I have committed myself to an uploading schedule (see my profile for details), so this story should be updated every Saturday from now on. She says confidently. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the last chapter!**

**Family Ties **

**Chapter 4**

The next day was a slow day at the market. Briar sat behind his stall and brooded, barely paying attention to the activity in front of him, hardly looking up at the people going past. He stared at his hands, watching the vegetable dye tattoos bloom on his palms, lost in his thoughts.

None of the girls had tried to talk to him this morning, for which he was grateful, if a bit surprised. It was unlike them, especially Sandry, not to want to stick their noses in. Perhaps they were as shaken as he felt, after the last dream. It seemed to resound with him even now, hours later.

He sat back in his chair and let the day pass him by. He was just thinking that perhaps he could pack up early to go home and take a nap, when something caught his eye. He looked up to see the golden-haired Westerner sauntering casually past the stalls opposite. Briar's eyes widened, and he tensed himself in expectation, but the man didn't even look over at him.

Briar was angry now. What gave this wispy-looking bleater the right to follow him around and then go walking around, cheerful as you please?

Briar told the plants to guard the booth and got to his feet. He crossed the street and walked close behind the man for a few paces. The man glanced behind, greyish-green eyes narrowed, then turned back. Briar kept after him, not bothering to hide what he was doing.

Eventually the Westerner whirled on him. "Are you following me, sir?" he demanded.

Briar was not afraid. "Turnabout's fair play," he said, glaring up at the pale face. He adjusted his vision slightly, and realised suddenly that Tris' dream-mage theory was as ridiculous as it had sounded in the first place. The man didn't have so much as a spark of magic in him.

"I assure you I don't know what you're talking about," the man said coldly.

"You mean you don't remember stalking me yesterday?" Briar replied, raising his eyebrows in an expression of pure cynicism.

"I expect you have mistaken me for someone else," was the answer. Briar frowned. "I advise you to stop there, unless you want me to alert the Duke's men."

Briar was not duly affected by this threat, as he was on good terms with most of the Duke's guards and some of the harriers, and he was fairly sure Sandry could get him out of any strife he should get into with them - whether she _would_, of course, was a different matter altogether. Still, there didn't seem to be any point in arguing further, since the man was clearly either a madman or a liar.

And yet… there was something about him, Briar realised, the more he looked. Something familiar that went beyond the last few days. Before he could put his finger on it, though, the man had whirled around and stalked off.

He told Daja about it when he got home, and she nodded. "Well, it was a long shot," she said as the cook served them dinner. "I expect he was just trying to rob you and now trying to get away from it."

"If he was, he acts like no thief _I've _ever seen," Briar said, with the conviction of experience. "He's no mage, he's no labourer either. Merchant, mebbe. Tris would be able to tell."

"You're losing your touch, Briar Moss, if you can't size someone up with one look," Daja teased.

"This fellow takes more than one look," Briar said frowning. "And there's something about him… like I've seen him before."

"Maybe you have," Daja reasoned. "You met a lot of people when you were travelling with Rosethorn. Perhaps that's how he knew where to come to steal _shakkans._"

Briar was not completely convinced by this argument, but it was all he had to go on. He didn't know why he was worrying about it so much. It wasn't as if the man was a threat to him, after all.

"Can we try for a good night's sleep tonight?" Daja asked later. "I almost fell asleep at the forge at lunch time."

"I'm not doing it a-purpose!" Briar protested. Though secretly he was desperately hoping the same thing.

~*0*~

_He stood amid the ruins of Gyonxe, amid the tide of people fleeing the city from the Yanjingi army. They moved as one, like a desperate animal, like a tidal wave of terror. "Evvy!" he shouted, struggling against the tide. "Evvy!" _

_With every passing moment he was sure he would find her dead, crushed by the crowd or in pieces, or flattened by the boulders that hurtled past overhead to smash into the temple walls. _

_"Rosethorn! Evvy!" _

_Someone elbowed him hard in the stomach in their frantic attempt to get past him, and he doubled over, stumbling almost flat on his face. He forced himself up - to fall now would be a death sentence - and fought his way over to the entrance. People had taken shelter in the temple, and he was forced to climb over them in places, his feet hitting flesh and bone as he scrambled. _

_"Evvy! Evvy!" _

_There was an explosion from behind him, he felt the ground roar as though it was being torn apart. He went flying and found himself tossed over the crowd and onto a pile of bodies. None of them were moving. Horrified he scrambled off them and backed away. The light of the flames that wreathed the temple came through the windows and illuminated their dead faces. Men, women and children, all piled up like so much rubbish. "Evvy… Rosethorn?" he called again, hoarsely. _

_Then from behind him, he felt it. That terrible, dark presence. Had it been chasing him all along? He didn't dare turn, didn't wait to see the hideous black shape of it, the glow of its eyes, he just ran. Ran away from the temple, away from the city. He found himself running along a corridor of pure darkness, and he knew he could not run forever. The thing would find him. He could feel the crunch of bone under his feet, still smell the reek of rotten and burnt flesh. He could hear it roaring along behind him, ever gaining, but he was blind in the dark and it was only a matter of time before he fell, and the creature swallowed him whole. _

_Fear, pure and terrible, engulfed him. And then he felt his feet slide out from under him, but he had to get away, he must… he reached up, trying to get back to his feet, but all his fingers encountered was slippery wet flesh, the stink of blood stinging his nostrils. _

_Briar, wake up! _

He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe, he was drowning in blood and fire.

_Briar! Wake up! _

**Notes:**

**New chapter next Saturday! (Friday in the U.S and the UK depending on the exact time). Also I've uploaded the first chapter to a Tortall-verse story called Opals and Fire, so go check that out, it will be updated every Thursday! Thanks for reviewing, I do appreciate it and try to reply to them all.**


	5. The Road Hardest Travelled

It took the girls a long time to wake him. Eventually Daja forced herself awake, got out of bed and came up the stairs in her nightshirt to shake him out of it. He was sweating and wild eyed, and if she hadn't put out a strong hand to stop him, he would have attacked her in panic.

"Calm _down_," she hissed. "We've all been yelling at you for Gods-know how long."

"I… I was…"

"We know where you were." She looked grim, but she kept a firm hand on his shoulder until he had convinced himself that he was, in fact, home again. He had thought he was going to be trapped in that nightmare forever, it had seemed to go on and on and on, like an endless corridor of terror.

_Oh Briar. _Sandry's mind-voice sounded like she was about to burst into tears.

He didn't even have the strength to tell her not to blub. He felt like crying himself, but he'd be damned if he was going to, in front of Daja.

_We have to do something_. This was Tris. _You have to go see the mind-healer again. Tomorrow. Today. Whatever. _She spoke firmly, but Briar could sense that she was just as frightened as the rest of them.

_Seconded_, said Daja, speaking through her magic so they could all hear, but looking straight at Briar, her dark brown eyes very serious. _I never, ever want to go through that again. _

_Neither do I, _said Sandry, the girl who had lived through plague and fire and seen people torn apart by magic.

_Promise you'll go, Briar, _said Tris, an edge of pleading in her voice. Tris _never _begged for anything.

_I will_, he promised. He knew it was time to put his love of privacy aside, and his pride, and ask for help. He never wanted to have a nightmare like that again, either.

~*-BBB-*~

~*-BBB-*~

Daja made sure that he went. She stopped a boy in the street and sent him to the Healer with a note to save time for him for that morning. Briar couldn't help resenting the time he could have spent at the market after such an unsuccessful day yesterday, but he knew there was no choice. If he didn't go, all three girls would tell on him to Rosethorn, he just knew it. She technically wasn't his teacher anymore, but she could still deliver a dressing-down like no other.

He decided to walk, not wanting to subject a horse to just current state of distractedness.

"I'll have the maid make your bed fresh for when you get back," Daja said. "You can sleep all day, if you want. I know I will."

He nodded acknowledgement and did his best to pull himself together long enough for the hike up to Winding Circle Temple. It was a long walk, but at least it would probably exhaust him to the point where he wouldn't care when the Healer started poking around in his head. He had to admit to himself that it would be better sooner than later. He kept thinking he saw glowing red eyes out of the corner of his eye, and jumping at noises just on the edge of hearing.

He reached out to the plants around him, craving comfort, and they made him feel a little better. There were some nice tall grasses near the path up to the temple, and he stepped off the path to walk among them, letting his fingers brush them as they leaned towards him as he passed. Eventually, though, he had to step back onto the path, and when he did, all the green things around him clamoured in protest.

_What? _he demanded irritably. The plants replied that there was something on the path they didn't like. _Don't be silly - _Briar started to tell them, but then a flicker of magic caught his eye. He stared down at the ground ahead of him, wondering how on earth he could have missed it before. A tangled rope of magic lay threateningly across the path - a mage trap. But who would put a mage trap on the path that led directly to Winding Circle? It might catch anyone from the High Dedicates to the lowliest novice….

_No, _he realised, his blood suddenly running cold. _This is for me. Someone _knew_ I was coming this way. _This realisation dawned on him like a spout of ice water being trickled down his spine. Someone was after him. He whirled around, hearing some imaginary sound, and

_the great dark beast, eyes glowing scarlet, bore down upon him. _

He turned, and without knowing why, started to run.

He ran, not knowing where he was going or why, only that he had to get away.

_He ran blindly, his mind shrouded in darkness and chaos. His footsteps echoed on stone, his senses were cut off, he couldn't feel any green things no matter how much he tried. _

_Suddenly he stopped dead, unable to move an inch. _

He realised later that there must have been another mage trap. He struggled, both physically, kicking and tearing at the spell with his hands, and with his magic, but he hadn't felt so magically useless since before he had learned how to use it. He knew the grasses were only a short way away, but his senses, even the magical ones, were all clouded by fear. He heard a great roaring above him and clapped his hands to his ears. He shut his eyes, certain that death was only seconds away.


	6. Traps on the Path

Daja was at the forge when she realised something was wrong. Carefully she put down her tools, taking care to keep the hot iron away from the bench top, and closed her eyes to concentrate.

It was Briar. She could sense immediately that he was scared, and that scared her, because Briar was never frightened. _Briar? _She called, hoping he would let her see through his eyes so she could help. But he didn't even seem to hear her. He was moving though, she could feel that, moving quickly. Her tie to him was vibrating in a way it never had before. _Briar? _

Suddenly she felt a wave of fear so strong it almost brought her to her knees. For a moment she was sure there were… _things_ around her, bearing down on her. She summoned the heat of the forge to her palm and blasted it towards where she felt the danger. It passed through empty air and impacted with the stone walls of the forge, leaving a black scorch mark.

She was alone in the forge. She shook herself angrily - of course there was nothing there! For a moment she'd been acting like a frightened little girl.

_Daja? _Sandry's voice sounded very small.

_I'm fine, _Daja said quickly.

_Did you feel it? _

Daja blinked. _Yes… yes I felt it. _For a moment she had a vision of Sandry sitting in a pile of loose thread that had unwound itself from everything around, from the curtains to the dresses of the poor seamstresses who were now cowering by the door, covering themselves with their hands. _What on earth did you do?_

_I don't know… I just went to pieces all of a sudden. Where's Briar? _

Daja felt quickly for the magical link to Briar. For a moment she couldn't find it at all. It was there all right, but very faint, as if he was very far away, but somehow she knew that he wasn't. _He was going to Winding Circle_, she said. _To see the mind healer. I have no idea what happened. _

_Find him. _Tris' voice sounded muffled, but then, she was still several hundred miles away. _Something's happened. _

_I don't like this_, Daja said crossly, masking her worry with harshness. _It's like when we were little and our magics kept getting messed up. _

_No, it's not, _said Sandry, and Daja could tell she was apologising to the seamstresses and leaving the room, heading to the stables. _This time its just one of us with a problem, and the rest of us are feeling it. I do hope he's all right… _

_Serve him right for not going earlier, if he isn't, _Daja said stiffly, extinguishing the hot iron. It was a waste of materials, but finding Briar was more important than finishing her current project. _Can you tell where he is?_

_No,_ said Sandry. _We better start at Winding Circle. I'll meet you by the road on the hill. _

Daja took the carthorse. The mare looked surprised at being taken out and saddled without being hitched to anything, but there was no time to walk.

Sandry was as good as her word, riding a white horse from the Duke's stables. Her clothes were immaculate as usual, since the threads in her garments were too well-trained to twist apart when she had a panic. Not that she had done anything like that in years.

They didn't say much as they rode up the path towards Winding Circle. She could tell Sandry was just as worried as she was, maybe more. There was nothing more from Tris either, and Daja wondered if she was still there, listening, or if that was too hard for her, from so far away. She was prepared to believe anything, at this point.

They saw nothing on the path. At the temple they found the mind-healer Briar was supposed to have met, and were unsurprised to discover that he had never arrived.

"But where could he have gone?" Sandry said despairingly. "Discipline?"

"Maybe, but then he wouldn't feel so… far off," Daja said. It was hard to describe the feeling she was getting in words. It was as if she had missed something, something important. "Let's go down the path again, just in case, then we'll send someone to the cottage in case he's there."

Sandry nodded, and they turned the horses back down towards the town. Daja was just starting to think that she had imagined whatever feeling she thought she had, when a flicker of light caught her eye.

"Sandry, wait!" she called out to the girl, who had gone on ahead a way. She turned the mare slightly and narrowed her eyes, sharpening her magical sight. There was something there, on the ground, not visible to the naked eye but it lit up faintly to her magical ones.

"It's faded," Sandry said, when Daja had shown her what she saw. "But… it looks like…"

"I know," Daja said grimly. _Tris? _she called. _We need you a minute. _

"She said she could only talk to us if she initiated it," Sandry said, but Daja had been paying attention. Tris had jumped into more than one conversation over the past few days. It took her a minute, but she answered.

_What is it? Did you find him? _

_No, we found something else. Take a look at this. _Daja showed Tris the flicker on the ground.

_Mage trap, _Tris said confidently. _Strong one. _

Daja and Sandry looked at each other. _You don't think… _

_Briar isn't stupid, _Daja said quickly. _And he can see magic. He wouldn't just walk into something like this. _

_He might if he was frightened enough he wasn't looking where he was going_, Sandry shot back. _You felt it, before… it was like the nightmares. He was terrified. _

_So was I, _said Tris.

_Me too, _said Sandry.

Daja was not going to admit to being frightened. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the mage trap. _Tris, is there any way to find out who put this here? _

_Yes, Niko could do it, but there might not be time. It's a very consuming spell, and he doesn't have me to help him. _

_What do we do then? _Sandry exclaimed. _How on earth do we find him? _

_I've an idea where we can start,_ said Daja. _The man Briar saw in the market - you know what he looks like? _

_Yes, but…_

_That's the only lead we've got. _

_But I looked already, Daja. None of the Duke's men know who he is._

_Then we'll ask the harriers, the merchants, the students. Someone has to know. _

_But… what if we find him, and he has nothing to do with it? Then we've wasted time. _

_That's why I'm going to go get Rosethorn, and we'll try it the other way, _Daja said firmly. _Even if we can't find him, his _shakkan_ must be able to. _

Sandry relaxed a little at this. _All right_, she said. _Tris? _

No answer.

_Tris?_

"She's gone," said Daja. "Never mind. Stay in touch, all right?"

"Of course. Good luck with Rosethorn."

Daja grimaced. "I might need it."

~*-D-*~

~*-D-*~

Rosethorn looked worried when Daja filled her in on the situation. "What in the Green Man's name is that boy up to?" she muttered. She went to the garden and let her hands twine into the vines that crept up the wall. She stood there for a moment in silence, her expression growing gradually grimmer as she asked the plants to search for Briar, enlisting the help of the _shakkan_, as well.

"Well?" Daja asked, when she couldn't stand it anymore.

Rosethorn shook her head. "Nothing."

"Nothing? How can there be nothing?"

"They can't find him. He must be somewhere with no plants, perhaps a high building, thick stone walls."

"The palace?" Daja suggested. It was the only place she could think of like that.

"Even the palace has pot plants." Rosethorn suddenly looked very tired - Daja wasn't quite brave enough even to think the word 'old'. "Now I wish I hadn't told him it was nothing to worry about. Clearly someone has an dangerous interest."

"Well that was my one idea," Daja sighed. It was starting to get dark. "Unless Sandry has something, we might not get any further until tomorrow."

"Make sure Sandry makes a full report to the harriers," Rosethorn said. "Kidnapping is a serious crime in Emelan, even of a full-grown mage."

"I'm sure she will," Daja said. "She's good at - "

Suddenly her tie to Briar flared, the same way it had earlier but worse, much worse. Rosethorn, her hands still tangled in the vine, gasped.

_BRIAR! _Daja shouted down the link. _WHERE ARE YOU? _

There was no reply, only more fear. _Briar! _She heard Sandry call, and then Tris, but he didn't seem to hear them. _Briar! _

And then Daja felt a tug on her heart, a sharp pain that made her stumble and catch the wall for balance. _Briar? _

There was silence. Rosethorn's face was white and her eyes wide. Daja could hear Sandry sobbing somewhere in the back of her mind. What had just happened?

_Briar? _she tried again, but he was gone. Her link to him was no longer faint, it was missing entirely.

_What is it? _she asked her foster-sisters, her mind unable to process what she knew to be true. _What happened? _

For a while there was no answer from them, either. Sandry was crying, and Tris was silent. Then she heard; _he's gone. I don't… he's just… gone. _

_No! _Daja shouted back, angrily. _He - he can't have - _

Rosethorn untangled herself from the plants and stepped off the garden. As Daja watched, she knelt on the grass and put her hands over her pale face, and her shoulders began to shake. Daja didn't think she had ever seen Rosethorn cry.

"Rosethorn?" Evvy had come to the door of the house and was staring at them both in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Daja stared at Rosethorn. Somehow, seeing her like that was more convincing than any of her own feelings. She could disbelieve what her magic was telling her, what Tris and Sandry might say, but she could not argue with stiff, unbreakable Rosethorn sobbing on the grass like a child.

She looked up at Evvy. Someone had to tell her. "I think…" she began, stopping to clear the lump that had risen in her throat. "I'm sorry… I think… Briar is dead."


	7. Raymus

~*-BBB-*~

He woke in an empty stone room. His immediate reaction was to search for plants with his magic, but as soon as he tried, he recoiled quickly. Wherever he was, it was surrounded by a black swath of nothingness - no, not nothingness. It was the same dark stuff that made up the monster in his dreams.

Slowly he remembered running from the creature on the path to Winding Circle. But it couldn't have been there. Could it? Unless he had been dreaming… unless he was _still _dreaming…

He pinched himself, hard, on the back of his hand. All it did was to make a section of vine tattoo wither and die, quickly replaced by another flowering one.

He looked around. The room was totally empty, and it was stone from floor to ceiling. _Rocks,_ he thought darkly. _If only Evvy were here._ It was very dark, the only light through the keyhole of the door and around the hinges. He could feel no green things anywhere. He felt inside himself for his magical ties. He struggled to find them, where before they would have come to him as easily as breathing. When he did find them, he could barely feel them - Sandry, Daja, Tris, Rosethorn, Lark, Niko, Crane, and his _shakkan_, all faint and dying. What had happened to them? What had happened to _him?_

_Don't panic, Briar_, he tried to tell himself. _This isn't like you at all. _But he couldn't help it. The monster of his dreams haunted his waking thoughts. He kept thinking he saw it out of the corner of his eye, heard it at the edge of hearing, and it smothered his magic like a great black cloud.

Someone had caught him. There had been a mage trap…

But why? And who? He buried his face in his hands and tried to concentrate, tried to call out to his foster sisters. _Daja? Sandry? …Tris? _A pointless effort, since she was so far away, but it didn't seem to matter. Niether of the others answered. And there was no way to call Rosethorn without something green to help him. Even his _shakkan_, which he had known to support him magically from miles away, seemed unreachable.

If only he hadn't stopped carrying lock picks! There hadn't been any need, since he was always either at home or at the market. The great stone door looked solid and impenetrable._ Or if only it was wood!_

He shook his head. It did not good to dwell on his druthers. _Focus Briar, focus. _But it was hard. It felt like a dream, his thoughts were unstable and insubstantial. Except the cold floor under him was very real.

Then, from somewhere, he heard voices. He sat very still, arms around his knees, and listened hard.

"… if I say so myself."

"And is it - he - so very important, Raymus?"

"Of course he is, or I wouldn't have pursued the subject, now would I? Just you go up now and don't worry about a thing. You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes Raymus."

The voices sounded both similar to each other and familiar to Briar - a Bag sort of voice, posh. The main difference was that the one called Raymus was calm and assertive. The other one sounded nervous.

Briar stayed still to see if he could hear anything else, but it seemed to go quiet for a while outside the stone room. He took a deep breath. _They aren't monsters_, he told himself firmly. _They're just people. People with guts enough to grab me - they're either really brave, or they haven't heard any of the stories that have gone around about me. _

It seemed like hours until anything else happened. He passed the time reciting herb properties in his head, trying to clear his mind. Even meditation was difficult and exhausting, he couldn't get hold of his magic at all. And every time he closed his eyes, he found himself back in Gyonxe, or on the streets of Sotat, running for his life away from the dream monster.

Just when he had gone through every herb he knew for the third time and was about to start on garden flowers, he heard a key turn in the lock. He scrambled to his feet quickly and backed up against the wall. Perhaps when the door opened he could make a run for it.

The man who entered the room was the wispy-haired Westerner. Deep down he had suspected this, so he wasn't surprised, but then the man looked up and met his eyes, and Briar saw red pin-pricks of light behind the greyish-green of his irises. Terrified, he scrambled back, falling into a corner from which there was no escape. He was forced to stare up at the creature of his nightmares as the man looked down at him and smiled. "Good, good," the man said, and Briar heard in his speech a terrible roar. "Welcome, _Briar Moss_, if that is what you want to call yourself."

Fire and blood was roaring through Briar's brain. He couldn't speak, he couldn't even think.

The man seemed to be satisfied. "Don't fight it," he said gently, but all the gentleness was inaudible over the screams and flames his words seemed to conjure up in Briar's ears. "The more frightened you are, the easier it is."

Deep, deep down inside Briar, the deepest place where he kept his most desperate emergency magic, he felt a flash of anger. This man was _doing _this to him. Filling him with paralysing fear so that he couldn't speak, couldn't move. He tried to shake off the fear, but he wasn't quite angry enough for that.

"I said don't fight it," said the man, looking down at him with contempt. "That's better…" he reached forward, and Briar recoiled from that touch, but there was nowhere to go, and his head impacted on the stone wall with a painful _crack_. The man's pale fingers touched his forehead, and he felt a spark of magic. Then he felt something… go. It was hard to say what it was. It was like the feeling of having a headache and then having a Healer cure it, except the other way around… the loss was painful, no, it was _agonising. _He felt pain start to radiate out from the base of his spine to the top of his head, as though someone had lit a line of oil under his skin. He thought he screamed, once.

Then it was over, and he was lying, alone, on the stone floor again. It no longer hurt, but he had a terrible sense of loss, of emptiness. Automatically he tried to reach out to the girls, for some comfort, for some assurance. Nothing happened. It wasn't even that he couldn't reach them - nothing at all happened. He tried to look for green things. His mind stayed wholly inside his head. He could sense nothing outside his own body. He felt ill. Shakingly he sat up, and as he did so, something hideous caught his eye.

It was his own hand. Eyes widening, he raised both hands, unable to believe what he was seeing. Every one of the tattooed flowers and vines had shrivelled and died. They sat still and brown beneath his skin, like a normal tattoo, if anyone had ever wanted to paint dead things onto their body.

_Daja? _He called helplessly. _Sandry? _

Nothing. There was nothing outside him, nothing inside him.

His magic was gone.


	8. Euan

Hours later, he still sat curled up in the stone corner. His legs and arms were numb, his back felt like one huge cramp, but it was nothing compared to what was going on inside his head.

_All right Briar,_ he thought to himself firmly, though this had done no good so far. _Stop panicking. It's not the first time you've been without magic, after all. _

But the last time had been years ago. He had been what? Eleven, twelve? He, Daja and Tris had given their magic to Sandry so that she could map the way their power had been inexplicably entwined by her spell during the earthquakes in Emelan. He remembered the way they had done it: just meditation, and then he had made a vine of his magic, and passed it to Sandry. It had felt like a gentle tug, and then for a few days he couldn't mind-call, or talk to plants, or use his power.

This was different. This _hurt_, with every fibre of his being, he felt the agony of loss, what had been there for so long was now missing. His ties to the plant world, his ties to the girls. It was a part of him. It was like losing all his limbs, or his sight, or hearing, of all of them all of a sudden.

And more than that, he had lost his only hope of any way out of here. He needed magic.

He shook his head and forced himself to think. He had survived without magic the first ten or so years of his life, right? He had survived worse than this on his wits, his clever fingers and his knives. None of that was going to be much use here, though. He still had his boot knives, but they were too big to fit the keyhole in the stone door. He couldn't cut through rock.

_Where's Evvy when you need her? _ he thought ruefully.

They would have to feed him, he thought, if they meant to keep him alive. The man - Raymus - had taken his magic, and it would only work as long as Briar was alive, surely. He struggled to remember what he had learned about such things from Niko, in the early years of his training. He could remember about two hundred herbs, their properties, where they could be found, and what poultices and potions they were good in, but magical theory tended to go in one ear and out the other. He was almost sure they had to keep him alive. Which meant they would have to feed him. Which meant someone was bound to come in, sooner or later.

He stretched his legs out, wincing as feeling came back to them in the form of vicious pins and needles. He unsheathed a boot knife, his hand brushing the boot as he did so. Normally he would have felt the strengthening and cleaning spells Sandry had woven into them, but now they just felt like plain old leather.

He turned the knife over in his fingers. Whoever came through that door, he decided, was going to get a face full of the old Roach, since he wasn't exactly Briar Moss, Green Mage, anymore.

The only problem was, he wasn't sure if this plan would work. The last time he had seen Raymus, a terrible paralysing fear had come over him, and all he had been able to do was cower. Could that happen again? The more he thought about it, the more he was sure it would. The red-eyed monster would come back and he would be helpless. The - Briar thought a particularly vicious Sotaten expletive - man would probably take his knives, too. He tucked the blade back into his boot. Better to save his resources.

~*-BBB-*~

~*-BBB-*~

He thought he slept, but the stone floor was hard and, well, stone. What he wouldn't give for a soft bed of moss, now. He wondered what the girls were doing. Were they worried about him? They would have noticed by now that he hadn't returned from the mind-healer. It must be gone midnight, maybe even morning. It was hard to tell time passing in the dark room.

He was roused by a noise outside the door. Warily he sat up, rubbing life back into his hands and feet. There was a muffled sound, like something falling, then a muttered curse, and then something clicked in the lock.

The man came in, backwards, hauling a mattress through a space that was too small for it. He glanced over his shoulder, once, but otherwise paid Briar hardly any attention.

Briar frowned. He didn't feel afraid. In fact, he felt more sure of his own mind than he had in hours, except for being really bloody _angry_. He scrambled up to his feet. "Hey," he said sharply.

The wispy-haired man looked up at him, surprised, and Briar felt more confused than ever. The man was looking at him as though he hadn't expected him to be there. Or maybe he had been expecting someone else. There was no hint of red in those greyish-green eyes now. Really familiar eyes, Briar thought, not for the first time.

"Who are you?" Briar demanded. "Why are you keeping me here - why did you take my magic?"

"Me?" the man seemed to relax a little. "You mistake me."

Briar felt an odd suspicion come over him. "Who are you?" he repeated.

"My name is Euan. I remember you, you were… in the market, the day before yesterday."

Briar frowned. He remembered how the man he had chased after hadn't seemed to recognise him at all. And now he came to think about it, this man had a kinder face than the one who had put the fear spell on him.

"Yes, I was," he said shortly. "Are you telling me you had no idea you were going to kidnap me when you saw me?"

"I didn't kidnap you," the man sighed. "You've met my brother, Raymus. I'm sorry about that."

"You're _sorry_?" Briar said incredulously. "He took my magic! What is he using it for? How did he take it?"

"I don't know," Euan said. "I know very little about magic."

Briar hesitated. He couldn't tell now, of course, but he remembered the man from the market had not had a scrap of magic that he could see. Suddenly it seemed to make perfect sense that there were two separate men.

"He told me he caught a mage," Euan explained, sheepishly. "But I expected a man. You're hardly more than a boy."

Briar glared at him. "Thank you," he said in his most viciously polite voice.

"No offence meant. I really am sorry about this, you know, but my brother was very adamant that we need you." He gestured to the mattress, which at least looked clean. "I brought you this, I thought you should at least be comfortable."

Briar wanted to strangle this dumb blond bleater, but he kept his calm. "Why does he _need_ me?" he asked.

Euan sighed again. He sighed in such a way that he deflated, so that Briar thought a decent gust of wind might push him over. "My brother is very ill," he explained. "He needs your magic to keep him alive."

Briar frowned. "That's nonsense," he said. "There's no such illness that would be healed by green magic."

"Raymus was very sure," the man said. "We've been looking for you a long time."

"Me?" Briar was more confused than ever now. "Why me?"

"I told you I know very little about magic. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking to you." He turned and started for the door, but Briar was quicker. In an instant he had drawn a boot knife and thrown himself at the man, slamming him face first against the stone wall. He held the knife close to Euan's throat, just touching, so that the man could feel the cold steel against his skin.

"Now," said Briar. "You're going to tell me where I am. And then, you're going to tell me where Raymus is, and _then_," he said, putting enough pressure on the knife that the man whimpered. "_Then_, I'm going to get my magic back."


	9. Foolishness

"Don't be a fool, boy," the man called Euan stammered at him, his voice muffled where his face was pressed up against the stone.

Briar put a little extra pressure on his knife. "I'm feeling especially foolish just now, as a matter of fact," he muttered. "And I don't need magic for the sort of foolishness I've got in mind."

"You don't understand, he will find you…"

The man was putting up a good show, but Briar could feel his pulse vibrating against the knife's edge. "Help me out of here," he demanded. "I'll worry about your brother _finding _me later."

"I… I can't…"

Briar let the knife pierce his skin, and the man hissed as a trickle of red blood moved down his throat and under his fancy Bag shirt. "I could kill you right now," he warned. "And make my own way out. But I'm sure you'd rather we both got out alive. Where are we?"

"The… the north watchtower… Bit Island."

Briar almost let the man go for his own surprise. "Bit was destroyed. Years ago."

"We rebuilt it. The Duke hired us."

Briar didn't know anything about it, but then, he did not sit on the Duke's council like Sandry did. She might have known. And now he felt a fool - Bit Island! Nothing but sand and rock and wind with only water all around. Small wonder he hadn't been able to feel any plants. "Who's 'us'?" he snapped.

"Raymus… Raymus and I… I am an architect. A great builder."

"I don't need to hear your boasting. And your brother?"

"Raymus handles the money. I have no head for coin, but -"

"You aren't just builders and baggy _merchants_," Briar growled dangerously. "Your brother's a mage. Where are you from?"

"All over, all over… we travelled, for a long time, to find someone to teach him, but no one would, they did not see his magic, it wasn't clear to them…"

"Dream magic," Briar snarled. "Dreams and fear, and… whatever magery it is, it's dark and leeching. I'm not surprised no one would teach him."

"No," Euan said, hoarsely. "My brother is a good man."

"Are you _blind?_" Briar hissed. He spun the man around to face him, keeping the knife a fraction away from the bloody cut he had made. It had been a long time since he had wounded anyone with a blade. There had been no need to, and he liked to think he was more civilised than that now, even if he could kill a man with a little bag of seeds. But the rage he felt now was no match for any civility he might have picked up lately. "He sowed some evil dream in my head, so when I saw him I wouldn't be able to fight him. He dragged me here, he cut me off from my sisters, and he ripped my magic out of me. _My _magic. You can never understand what that feels like. A good man?" he turned his head and spat on the stone floor.

Euan's grey-green eyes were very wide. "He needs you," he said, parrot-like, as though the words came from instinct rather than any deep-seated belief. "My brother must… live…"

Briar was about to answer when he heard a shout from below. He put a hand over Euan's mouth before he could shout back, and stood very still, listening. People were moving around below him, perhaps realising the man's absence. He had to go _now_. There might not be another chance. He glared at the Westerner. Leaving him behind was folly, but he knew he couldn't just stab the man and leave him for dead. Rosethorn would be extremely displeased with him if he did that. "Stay," he ordered, taking away first the knife, then his hand. "Make a single sound and I'll come back and gut you, understand?"

The man nodded dumbly. Briar grabbed the key from his belt and went to the great door made of stone and iron. _Some wood_, he thought as the key rattled in the lock. _I'd give my eyes for some wood. _Not that it would do him any good anymore, he remembered, and his heart hardened as he pushed the door open.

He had no idea what he was doing or where he was going as he found a staircase and made for it. Pulling his knife had probably been a damned stupid thing to do. He should have got to know the man, earned his trust, then asked for help. Now he was alone in a guarded island tower with no way out and, even if he did get out, no way to shore. His only hope was that he would get lucky and find a boat moored somewhere. A little one he could man himself, preferably a rower since he had little doubt he would be useless at managing sails. Daja would have been fine. Tris could have used wind to push her back. Sandry would have had the Duke and all his guard out looking for her by now.

_Who's looking for me? _he wondered. _If they even know where to look. _

Voices, and footsteps, coming closer. Cursing to himself, he found the nearest door he came to and, finding it blissfully unlocked, slipped inside. He closed it behind him as quickly as he dared, the sound of the latch catching practically a roaring in his ears. He looked around, desperately. There was a window, he saw straight away, and he ran to it. The view was of the sea, all the sea. Emelan must be in the other direction, but all he had to do was walk around the tower to see it. The space was just big enough for him to fit through. The only problem was the height. He felt slightly dizzy as he looked down, though he had never had problems with vertigo before. He had run and jumped across rooftops since childhood, but here there were no footholds, just a sheer drop of smooth stone onto the rocks below. Jumping from here would be suicide.

_Something to climb down on, _he thought desperately. He turned to look around the room. He had hardly seen it at first in his rush to see out of the window. A study, maybe, with an adjoining door. Odd to have a study in a watch tower. There were piles of maps and diagrams on the desk, and other small items scattered about, cluttering the space. He supposed it was too much to ask that there would be some rope or something lying around.

The voices were lingering somewhere above him. No doubt they had found Euan. They would check the whole tower until they found him. How much time did he have?

Giving the study room up for useless, he opened the adjoining door. It was a bedchamber, very small for a Bag, but more than adequate for a street rat from Sotat. A bed and a small table were all that was there, but there were clean white sheets on the bed. Almost stumbling in his haste, Briar ran for them, dragging them off the bed with all his might and gathering them into his arms. He fought with them, trying to get his arms around to get them in an order to tie together, but in his haste he knocked something off the table. The noise it made as it hit the floor seemed unimaginably loud.

A shout from above and the sound of running footsteps. They were coming for him. He almost turned to go back to the study with his armful of sheets, but something made him stop. The thing that had fallen onto the stone was a gold - no, brass, only gilded brass - picture frame. The picture was a charcoal sketch, very small but intricately detailed. It was of a woman. He might not have looked twice at it, only…

Behind him the door to the study burst open and three men appeared at the bedroom door. One was Euan, looking red-faced and holding a longsword that suited his hand badly. The other two were older, seafaring-looking men, their clothes sturdy and their beards speckled with salt. "What are you doing with that, boy?" Euan snapped, the dark red cut on his throat standing out starkly against his pale skin. Briar was holding the framed picture in his hand, staring at it, the sheets all but forgotten. "You put that down."

"I know her," he said, in a flat, emotionless voice.

"She has been dead many years." Euan was coming towards him with the sword held defensively in front of him. "You could not know her."

"She's my mother," said Briar.

Euan looked surprised for a moment, then he frowned. "Impossible."

"No, I know her. I dreamed about her only the other night. Before that I couldn't even remember what she looked like, but now…"

"Give that to me," Euan said, his voice shaking as much as the hand that held the sword. "Give it to me! You men, get him."

Briar held on to the picture, all sense of self-preservation stuck at the back of his mind as he stared at it, even while the two sailors fell on him and wrenched his arms back. They forced him to his knees and his hair fell forward into his eyes. The man called Euan knelt beside him and lifted his chin with a cold, pale finger. There was little malice in the look he gave Briar. It was a searching look, a curious, yet frightened look. Briar returned it with a full force glare worthy of his foster sister Tris. Then the Westerner plucked the drawing from Briar's hands.

On Euan's orders, the men dragged him back upstairs to the tower cell. They searched him, took his boot knives and the boots with them, and then stripped him of his tunic, leaving him in shivering in shirt and breeches alone. The stone floor froze him through the heels of his feet and the room was full of cold sea air. But they left the mattress.

He curled up on it, nursing the bruises left by the rough search and uselessly reciting herbs. Useless perhaps, but he felt it might be the only thing keeping him sane.

_What am I doing here? _a treacherous voice demanded to know while he tried to drown it out.

_Dang Gui, Dan Shen, Deerberry, Devils' Bit, Dead Nettle…_

_Who are these people? Why did they take my magic? Could it really be keeping Raymus alive?_

_Flagroot, Foxtail, Fireweed…._

_Why does he have a picture of my mother?_

_Grindelia, Ground Lily, Guelda Rose, Gypsyweed…._

_My mother… my mother…_

**~*-B-*~**

**~*-B-*~**

**Author's Note**

Thanks everyone for reading. I really appreciate everyone who has reviewed! Just letting you know that updates for this story may be delayed for a while as my folio is due in four weeks. You never know when inspiration will strike though so keep reviewing to remind me that people are still reading this story


	10. Lightning

~*-Briar-*~

No one came again for a long time. Not to talk to him, anyway. Food, water, and fresh chamberpots were left, by more of the salty-bearded sailors, or the occasional watchman. He tried to talk to them, but no one would say anything to him.

"They're keeping me prisoner!" he shouted after one who brought him food, on the fifth day. "This is illegal! I'll tell Duke Vedris on you!"

Nothing. The man just turned his back and slammed the stone door behind him. He considered attacking one of them, but they were all bigger and stronger than him and there were a lot of them and he had no magic and no weapons. Even if he got out of the room he'd have the same problem he had before. It seemed as though the only choice he had was to wait around for the girls to rescue him.

_How? _asked a treacherous voice in the back of his mind. _You're cut off from them. Not even the _shakkan _will be able to tell Rosethorn where you are. _

Out of all the girls, he thought Evvy most likely to trace him over land to the ocean. But there was a lot of water between the coast of Summersea and the island. Evvy could sense rock underwater, he knew, but this deep? And even if she could, how would the stone even recognise him? He was just a man now, not a mage.

He dreamed about the girls. It was better than the nightmares, but only just. He kept waking up thinking to find himself in his old bed at Discipline, only to open his eyes to the stone room with its bloody stone floor, shivering.

He would have given anything to talk to Euan one more time. The man clearly had some unresolved issues Briar knew he could play on. And, more than that, he wanted to ask about the picture of his mother. Was that how they had tracked him? It seemed unlikely. He'd been no more than four years old when his mother died, and only the Thief Lord and a few urchins in Sotat knew what had become of him after that. He had a mental image of Euan talking to the Thief Lord and almost laughed.

No magic, no knives. No weapons at all, except his hands and feet, and those were half frozen and numb most of the time. He asked for a blanket, but the deaf-seeming sailors ignored that request as well. And he wasn't about to start begging until he got _really _desperate.

He lay on his mattress and stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps it was time to start reciting herbs again...

Thunder rolled across the sky with a terrible, sudden rumble. Briar sat up, a slow grin spreading across his face. That was no natural storm. _That _sounded like Tris.

~*-Sandry-*~

Sandry woke with a start as the thunder rolled. Lighting flashed outside her window in almost the same instant. _Tris? _she thought, almost without hesitation.

_Later_, came back the curt reply, and the connection cut off. That was just _rude._

Sandry got out of bed and dressed quickly but quietly to avoid waking her chambermaid. She put on soft slippers and slung her riding boots around her neck by the laces before creeping downstairs. She passed guardsmen on the way, none of whom tried to stop her. Some looked nervously out the windows at the lightning.

The stableboy's eyes widened when she came for her horse and changed her shoes right in front of him. She stuffed the slippers into her mage kit and took the reins from him, using a stool to mount. "Lady Sandreline."

She sighed. She should have known it would never be that easy. "Yes, Baron Erdogun?

The tall, balding man hurried towards her with a pained expression. "Do you mind if I ask where you might be going this time of night, my lady?"

"I have family business," she said firmly. "If the Duke asks, you may tell him I will be back before sundown, or I will let him know otherwise."

She tapped the horse's flank with her heels and rode him out of the palace before he could protest any more. She had no doubt that her uncle would know what she meant by 'family business'.

Briar had been gone almost a week now. After that terrible moment when his connection to them had been strained and snapped, Daja and Sandry had thought he must be dead, but Tris had been quick to tell them otherwise. _But how can he be alive? _Sandry had asked her, almost unable to let herself believe it.

_I don't know, but he is, _Tris said. _I can _almost _scry him, but there's too much air and magic in the way. I need to be closer. I'm coming now. _

That was five days ago. It should have taken a month at the least for Tris to travel all the way from Lightsbridge, but she assured them she could do it faster, impossible as that seemed.

"I've given up trying to work out what's impossible for you four," Niko sighed when they told him. "Tris especially. Tell her from me not to hurt herself, will you?"

"I can't," Sandry had said, biting her lip. "She's not answering."

"At least she's _there_," Daja had said. Sandry knew what she meant. There was a great empty space in her where Briar should have been, and it hurt.

She had asked Duke Vedris to help in the search, but so far nothing had turned up. Briar's trail went cold off the path to Winding Circle. There wasn't even any blood or signs of a struggle. Sandry wasn't sure if that would have made her feel better or not.

Poor Rosethorn had hardly slept since he had disappeared. Daja said she had broken down on thinking that Briar was gone forever. It had taken all Sandry's persuasion to make her believe there was hope. "That boy will be the _death _of me," she kept saying, brushing off Lark's concern for her own health whenever the other woman tried to make her eat or sleep. She had spent every day walking round Emelan, communing with all the plants in her way to try and get some hint of where Briar was. But so far she had had about as much luck as the Duke's men.

Evvy accompanied Rosethorn on these excursions, and she was just as determined. "He came for me," she said, firmly, when Sandry asked if she might not like to take a rest. "He came for me when they took me. I'm not gonna let them take him, whoever they are."

Sandry sensed Daja coming up behind her as she made for the source of the lightning. It seemed to have died down now, but there was still heat in the air and early-morning people scurrying to get inside despite the total lack of rain.

"How in Trader's name did she get here so fast?" Daja demanded when she rode up at Sandry's side. "Did she turn herself into some wind, or what?"

Sandry wrinkled her nose. That sounded worryingly like something Tris might try and do. "It's there," she said, pointing at a squat inn up ahead. The roof was blackened and crisping in places. "She really oughtn't do that sort of thing."

"If it finds Briar, I don't care if she burns the place down," Daja said, riding the cart mare up to the inn and dismounting. Sandy leapt easily down after her and helped her secure the horses to the rail set there for that purpose.

Tris was standing in front of a table of terrified-looking sailors. One of her braids had come undone, and it frazzled and sparked as they came up behind her. "Ah, Tris…" Sandry said delicately.

"In a minute," Tris said sharply, as if it hadn't been almost a year since they had last seen each other. "You," she snapped, pointing at the biggest man at the table. "Tell my friends what you just told me, without so much stammering this time."

"My… my mates and me… we heard how as some boat from Sotat was asking about a boy," said the man. He was burly, bearded and tattooed, but clearly whatever Tris had done to the roof of the inn had terrified him into near-insensibility. "Half Sotatan, half Olarten, a green mage."

_Olarten? _Sandry glanced at Daja, but she was glaring at the sailor almost as furiously as Tris.

"What sort of boat?"

"Nothin' special, maybe a merchant ship," the man mumbled. Daja shook her head in disgust.

"Then what?" Tris demanded, her hair sparking even through the braids. Sandy couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her foster sister so angry.

"We… we heard there might be some money in it, so… so we went down there and told 'em there was a boy like that sold trees in the market," the man continued, wide eyes flickering between Tris and Daja. Sandry saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to see two more sailors trying to sneak out the door. She frowned, and asked the nearest tablecloth to take care of it. There was a squarking sound from one of the men as the fibres bound them together by wrists and ankles, and they went toppling over. Daja glanced round, but Tris didn't move a single muscle. "That's it, I swear. We never _took_ him..."

"There's been an investigation into this for _days_," Sandry said, taking a step forward. She knew she couldn't be as intimidating as either of her sisters, but she _was _the Duke's neice. She had the satisfaction of seeing the sailors' eyes widen even more at the sight of her. "Why have you not come forward?"

"Probably because there wasn't enough gold in it for them," Tris growled.

"What did they look like?" Daja demanded to know. "These men looking for Briar."

"Average," was the general consensus. "Western. Olarten, maybe, or Namornese."

"I'm glad you burnt the roof up," Sandry said viscously to Tris as soon as they had left the inn. "Glad, glad _glad_."

"To be fair, it's probably not _their _roof," Daja said. "Someone should pay reparations to the innkeep."

"I'll deal with it later," Tris said, reaching up and tugging the lightning braid back into order. "I have to see Niko."

Sandry was still seething as she mounted her horse, Daja pulling Tris up behind her. The girl didn't even complain at riding bareback. "Let's go to Discipline," Daja suggested. "We can send a message to Niko from there, and Rosethorn will want to know."

Tris looked for a moment as though she might argue, but eventually she nodded and put her arms around Daja's waist.

~*-AN-*~

Thanks for reading!

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	11. Danya

~*-Daja-*~

They searched the docks the next day, all of them, even Niko and Frostpine. No one could find a trace of Briar, or the men who had been asking after him.

"It was a week ago," Lark said, in an attempt to comfort them all as they rode back to Cheeseman Street on the cart. "That ship might be long gone by now."

"And Briar with them," Evvy said angrily. "How are we ever going to find him if they've sailed off with him somewhere?"

Tris said nothing. She had that far-off look on her face that meant she was listening or seeing on the winds. Daja knew better than to press her when she was scrying.

The cart dropped the three girls off and continued on to Winding Circle.

Tris, Daja and Sandry sat around the table in the kitchen, eating in silence. Daja tried not to think while she ate. She had already imagined enough terrible things over the last few days, the images of Briar being kidnapped and sailed across the sea to some unknown destination was one she didn't need added to her inner album of dread.

She looked up, thinking someone had spoken, but Tris was muttering to herself, stabbing her fork into her food without bringing it to her mouth. Daja was about to protest when Sandry shook her head.

_She's thinking, _the blonde girl explained.

_Can't she do it privately? _Daja replied grumpily. _Some of us are hungry. _

Sandry didn't bother to reply. They were all irritable and high strung.

Tris was still muttering and stabbing when Sandry and Daja had finished eating. The Trader girl got up and carried the plates to the sink while Sandry dusted crumbs. Then they sat down again, and waited.

"All right," Tris said, after what seemed like a long time. "Here's what we know - or what I think. Briar's alive. But he's been cut off from us, somehow. Some men came here asking for him, but now they're gone. There are only a few ships that have left port without returning since he went missing, four of those went to Namorn, the rest spread out over the south. It's possible that Briar's on one of them, or he could still be somewhere in Emelan."

"But nowhere with plants," Daja interrupted. "Or Rosethorn -"

"Wait!" Tris had stopped dead, her head cocked to one side as she listened. "I heard something."

"Something useful?"

_Quiet, Daja_, Sandry said earnestly. Hardly breathing, they both watched Tris as she turned her head.

"I can't see them," Tris said quietly after a moment. "But I can hear. There's two men talking. One of them said something about a Green Mage." She waved a hand, bending a coil of air around them so that they could hear what she heard.

"…tired of waiting." The voice was as clear as if the man had been standing right beside them. None of the girls moved, but listened intently. "When can we leave this place?"

"When the opportunity presents itself, and not before. There's no real rush."

"No rush? What if he gets out again?"

"That won't happen as long as you aren't so idiotic as to leave the door wide open, brother. Anyway, there's no where for him to go, as he discovered last time. What exactly is making you so nervous?"

"Something… I'm not sure. There's something about him, Raymus. He said… he said Danya was his mother."

"I know what he said. I told you, it's nonsense. Danya died years ago. I told you."

"It can't be a coincidence! What is it you _aren't_ telling me?"

The second man let out a long, low sigh."You're beginning to ask too many questions, brother. I think its time you slept for a while."

And then, silence.

"I bet that was them," Sandry said furiously. "He said brother. A temple, maybe?"

"Did you get a fix on it?" Sandry asked Tris, breathless. "Could we follow it?"

"Maybe," Tris said. She stood up. "I'll follow. I'll call you when I've got there."

"Wait!" Daja stood up quickly. "Why can't we go together?"

Tris smiled. "I'll be faster." She went to the door, hoiking her skirts up about her knees to step over the threshold. She made for the stables, and Sandry and Daja hurried after her.

"What are you going to do?" Sandry demanded.

Tris turned back to her, hands on her hips in her most stubborn pose. "I'm going to do some magic," she said flatly. "And not weather magic. You'd best scoot back."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Not to you." Tris went deeper into the stable, where she couldn't be seen from the street. The cart mare whinnied nervously.

"Tris, _no_." Daja reached out and put a hand on Tris' shoulder. The girl pulled back, startled. "Whatever you're going to do, it's not worth it right now. You heard the man. He said there was no rush. We've time to get there on horseback."

Tris looked as though she might be about to argue, but Sandry was already installing her horse. "Let's _go_," she said, beckoning.

~*-Briar-*~

_Sumac, sweet woodruff, tarragon, turmeric, vanilla… hang on. I missed one. Tarragon… thyme. Thyme! How could I forget thyme? Rosethorn'd give me one around the ear. Thyme, turmeric, vanilla, voatsiperfery, wintergreen…_

Something downstairs banged, jerking him out of synch with his brain. When he came back, he'd completely lost track of where he was up to. If only there was something to _do _up here except recite herbs and spices! He'd done the alphabet forwards, backwards, side-to-side, with detailed descriptions, culinary and medical uses...

Someone was shouting. He ignored it. Someone was always shouting. His stomach rumbled. That was a little harder to ignore. What little food he had been given had only taken the barest edge off the hunger. He turned over on the mattress and tried to shut out the rest of the world.

It was quiet then for a long time. He had almost drifted off to sleep again when the door clicked gently open. For a boy who had grown up on the street and lived through a war, it might as well have been slammed. He lay still, wide awake now, listening to the grind of the door, stone on stone, and the thud as it closed again, and then the sound of footsteps coming across the floor.

_Euan_. He could tell from the obvious way the man breathed. The brother was a great deal stealthier. Unfortunately he wasn't moving close enough that Briar could get the jump on him, so he must have learned something from their last encounter, at least. "Boy," the man whispered.

"I have a name," Briar said, without opening his eyes.

"I want to talk to you."

"Do you? That's nice."

"Would you _look _at me?"

"Or what? You'll threaten me to death?" Briar sighed and sat up. Clearly the man wasn't going away at any immediate juncture.

Euan was sweating, standing nervously near the door as if he might have to make a quick getaway. "I want to talk about Danya. Your… mother."

Briar felt his heart do a little jump. "Danya." He repeated the name, but it didn't mean anything to him, didn't ring any gongs. To him she had always just been Ma.

"You're from Sotat." It wasn't a question.

Briar nodded. "That's so."

"How did you come here, then?"

Briar raised an eyebrow. "You don't know that story? You must be one of the few left in Emelan who hasn't." Euan's blank stare said all he needed to know. "Niklaren Goldeye found me. I was all stitched up, branded twice a thief and bound to the rest of my short life in the docks, or the mines. But Niko said I had magic, and he brought me to Winding Circle."

"A thief?" the man looked almost disappointed. His lips curled with silent but obvious disapproval.

Briar stared back, resolutely. "I stole what I had to to survive. Not everyone gets brought up sucking eggs from a silver spoon."

"But Danya -"

"Died when I was four or so," Briar said flatly.

The man flinched. "Your father -"

"Never knew him. Never cared to either, if he left her alone to die bleeding in an alley. I have a new family now, thank you very much." He stretched his arms over his head, listening the bones in his fingers crack. "Is there a reason for this trip down memory lane?"

Euan swallowed. "I… I knew Danya."

"I worked that much out for myself."

Euan didn't seem to even hear him. His eyes wandered around the room, from the increasingly ripe mattress to the cold stone walls, to Briar in only his breeches. "This isn't right," he muttered. "It's not right at all."

"I wouldn't argue against a little decoration," Briar admitted, outwardly displaying the kind of nonchalance you _really _had to work on to be convincing, while inwardly allowing himself to feel the tiniest spark of hope.

"My brother put a spell on me," Euan muttered. "I slept for an hour, still standing, and when I woke he was gone. Magic." He spat. Briar was a little taken aback.

"He can do that? I thought dream mages could only affect… well, dreams." But that wasn't true, he realised even as he said it. He had been awake when he had seen the monster in the field. And he had been awake when Raymus had taken his magic away. Awake, and terrified. "Fear," he said quietly to himself. "A fear mage? Is that even possible?" He supposed if a mage that dealt in non-magic could exist, then anything was possible.

Euan was staring over at him with a pained look on his face. Briar waited as long as he could stand, but he had never been a particularly patient person. "You look like you're itching to say something."

The man flinched and scratched his neck. "Do you know much… how much do you know about magic? How it works?"

Briar shrugged. "A little. My sister Tris is the one you really need to ask, though."

Euan shuddered and turned away, starting to pace between the far wall and the door. "Tell me," he said. "Your best guess. Would it be easier… safer… to take someone else's magic… if you were related to them by blood?"

Briar had to think a moment. "It shouldn't really be possible at all," he said. "I mean, unless you're linked… like my sisters and me… or if you're just borrowing the power, channelling it while it's still dormant in them. But I suppose… blood, yes, maybe. What does this have to do with -"

"Danya," Euan said sharply.

"Raymus is… related to my mother?" Briar guessed, putting the absurdity of this to the back of his mind while he concentrated on getting to the point.

"No - yes - I don't know…" the man made a dismissive gesture with his hand. He stopped pacing and stared Briar straight in the face. "You're only half Sotaten," he said. Another confusing statement. Briar blinked. "Half Olarten. Right? That's what he said. That's what led us to you."

Briar shook his head. "I don't know. I told you, I never knew - I've never even been to Olart. Well, maybe once, but just for a day or -"

"We're Olarten. We haven't been there since we were children, but…" He took three steps forward, staring straight into Briar's eyes. Briar could have reached out and strangled the man, made a run for it, but he wanted to know where all this was going.

"I loved Danya Katat," Euan said, low and hoarse. "She was… I wanted to stay with her… marry her, help her… but Raymus said it was foolish. Said I was lowering myself, falling in love with a street whore. I argued, but he got his way. He always gets his way. That picture is all I have left of her." His face twisted as though set upon by a stab of painful emotion. "We went back," he continued, "Ten, eleven years later, but she was gone. Raymus spoke to the man she used to work for, he told him she died, long ago. No one said anything about a child."

Briar's eyes widened as his stomach turned completely over. "Are you telling me _you're _my - "

"I'm telling you _I don't know,_" Euan snapped. Sweat was running down his forehead and into his eyes and staining his clothes. He stank of it. He seemed to struggle inwardly with something for a moment before making a decision. "We have to go," he said, fast and low. "Now."

* * *

Thanks for your patience everyone. I estimate only a few more chapters left of this story!


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